


Wasting the Dawn

by kelex



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Character Death Fix, M/M, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-02-16 01:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 17,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18681043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelex/pseuds/kelex
Summary: Death is only the beginning. Or, Fa La La, It's Off To the Underworld We Go.





	1. Like a Rose Growing From the Christ Thorn

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, that’s from the Mummy. No, I don’t care. There might be lyrics included later. I’m pretty much ignoring anything in season 4 that I don’t like.

“He was my friend first!  We grew up together, he was practically my brother and I have always looked out for him!” Julia shouted angrily, making the glasses on the table shudder.

“Well, you did a bang-up fucking job this time, didn’t you?  Face it, you haven’t given a single shit about Q since you went on your whole goddess trip!”  Margo glared fiercely, gripping Quentin’s scorched crown so tightly it nearly cut skin.  “Hell with us mere mortals.  Don’t even think I forgot that you helped the goddamn fairies while Eliot and I were being almost exe-fucking-cuted!”

“Somebody’s tried to kill you!  I can’t imagine why!”

A warm, restraining hand lay gently on Margo’s shoulder.  “Empathy and resentment, Bambi.”  Eliot still leaned heavily on his cane, and he was pulling off the whole Johnny Cash Man In Black(™) thing.  His voice was just barely above a murmur, and it was strangely flat.  “We have both, remember?  Just like Quentin.”  Then he looked at Julia.  “As long as you don’t pick a fight, you’re welcome to stay.  You can have my room, and I’ll take Q’s.”

Wraithlike, Eliot disappeared back the way he’d come, and the soft closing of Quentin’s bedroom door was loud as a slam in the quiet.

\-----

Margo was still fuming at Julia when she knocked on Quentin’s door.  “El?”  And when there was no reply, she called again.  “Eliot?”  The doorknob wasn’t locked; the door opened as soon as she turned it.  “El!”

Eliot was sitting on Q’s bed with a stack of Quentin’s things beside him.  A capped fountain pen sat on an open tablet of paper, and Margo could read the single line written in Eliot’s precise handwriting; a salutation.   _ Dear Mrs. Coldwater. _  Quietly, she touched his shoulder.

“I didn’t know what to say,” was Eliot’s first comment.  “I’m sorry that your son is dead because he saved my life, and oh yeah, he was also the love of my life and the father of my son who kind of never really existed anyway because magic fucks everybody in the end?”

Margo was violently reminded of Quentin after the Welters match.   _ It’s the universe deep-dicking us.  Lie back and try to enjoy it. _  It had been death then, too, Quentin’s father.  Guilt and anger stole her voice, and she laid her forehead against the back of Eliot’s shoulder.

Eliot tilted his head so that he could nudge Margo up enough to rest their heads together.  He knew that he should be offering some kind of calm or comforting words, but he was fresh out of reassurance.

“We should tell Fen.  And Josh,” Margo started.  “They’ll--”

“Fuck Fillory.”  Eliot said it calmly, without venom or anger or remorse.  “I don’t give three shits about Fillory right now.  Everything it ever gave it took away, and honestly?  I don’t have anything left to take.”

Wisely, Margo chose not to argue.  instead she picked up  _ Fillory and Further: Book Two _ and put it in Eliot’s lap.  “Get some rest, Eliot.  Forget the letter; Alice will write one.”

Eliot looked at the book, then threw it to the floor.  “I’ll write it.”

“Okay.”  Reluctantly Margo started to close the door, then paused.  With a few quick motions, Margo cast a sleep spell on Eliot.  She stayed in the doorway until he was asleep.

\-----

“Hades.”  The book landed with a hard thunk on the coffee table.  “Persephone--Our Lady Underground--was murdered.  By… well, me.  The Monster’s Sister, anyway, possessing me.  So maybe I’m not the one to talk to him, but Margo and Alice could, since Margo forced the Monster out of Eliot and Alice was there with Quentin in the Mirror World, casting out the siblings.  There’s an argument to be made that when we threw the two of them into the Seam--”

“Or he could say that we were just cleaning up our own mess since we let the Monster out of Blackspire, and blame us for that,” Alice interrupted.  “There’s no guarantee--”

“Hey, if you want guarantees, go buy a stereo,” Julia snapped.  “It’s a chance, the best we have right now.”

“Hold up.  Chance for what, exactly?” Margo looked at the book Julia had thrown down.   _ Bulfinch and Mythology:  Fact From Fiction. _

“Getting Quentin back,” Alice answered.  “I, uh, I sort of borrowed Mayakovsky’s notes when we found him at Brakebills South, and… I can put a body together.  I mean, I’ll need help--”

“Okay, so fast forward to the Hades bit,” Margo demanded impatiently.  Her sleep spell wouldn’t last forever, and she didn’t want Eliot hearing this and getting his hopes up.  

“Well, Persephone is Hades’ wife, and it’s well documented in multiple sources that he’s very much in love with his her, so much so that he releases souls and Shades.  In some of the stories, Hades is the one moved by Orpheus and his love for Eurydice, but it’s Persephone’s tears that convince him to let her go.”

“Then--”

“Then I’m the one going.”  Eliot leaned heavily on his came as he walked over to lean against the couch.  

Both Margo and Alice got to to their feet, and Margo offered a steadying hand.  “You should still be sleeping.”

“Please, Bambi, remember who taught you that spell.”  He came around to take a seat on the couch.  “So, rescue mission?”

The three women traded glances as Alice settled back and Margo stayed perched by Eliot.  “We don’t know for sure,” Julia finally admitted.  “We’re just discussing--”

“So we’re discussing getting Q back from the Underworld.  I’m going.  There, end of discussion.”  Eliot was still pale, but his expression was rock-solid determination.

“You’re not strong enough,” Margo said softly.  “You’re barely healed--”

“I’m healed enough, I’m strong enough.  And I notice you’re not trying to sideline Julia,” Eliot argued.  

It hurt to hear Eliot still so lifeless, even when arguing.  “Because Julia already sidelined herself, asshole.  That’s why it’s going to be me and Alice.”  And didn’t that taste like shit when she said it.

At the mention of her name, Alice reached out and squeezed Eliot’s hand before linking their fingers.  “I promise, if it’s possible, I will bring him back where he belongs.”

_ Because you have such a stellar fucking track record of doing the right thing. _  It was on the tip of her tongue, but Margo bit it back when she saw Eliot gratefully squeeze Alice’s hand.  “So, about building that body…”

\-----

It was going to take a week or so to build Q’s body.  Kady had left Pete in charge of organizing the hedges, and was lending her magic to the effort.  She, Alice, and Julia were channeling the necessary magic, and Eliot watched helplessly.  

Margo and Poppy--of all fucking people,  _ Poppy _ \--were looking for local dragons, trying to find a friendlier option than the Hudson River dragon, and Eliot could only flip through books, searching for a rare gift.  

Periodic rabbits brought Margo updates; Fen was, by turns, begging and pleading and demanding to see Eliot.  Eliot finally sent a rabbit back to Fen;  _ Quentin dead.  Kind of busy, here. _  Only one more rabbit came.   _ Knifemaker’s daughter only a rabbit away.  Will come if needed. _

To Eliot’s surprise, Penny23 seemed to be inserted headfirst up Julia’s ass.  He idly wondered when that had happened, then realized that he didn’t give a single fuck.  Briefly he considered the idea that the Monster had done something to his Shade.  But he still felt agonizing pain and emptiness with every breath, so that had to mean he was fine, Shade intact.

Three days in, Josh came back from Fillory.  Alice had needed enchanted wood from the centaurs, to rebuild Q’s shoulder.  That’s when he realized it.  

He didn’t have exclusive claim to loving Quentin Coldwater.  Alice, Julia, Margo, Kady and Penny--even Hoberman--all had a claim on a piece of Q.  And maybe that was the key to getting him back.  Getting to his feet, he found Margo alone on the couch.  “Bring everybody upstairs, ten minutes.  Team meeting.  I’ll make drinks.”

Margo almost dropped her book.  “Eliot?”  This was the most animation, the most  _ life _ he’d shown since the memorial fire.

“Ten minutes, Bambi.”  Though he was moving slowly, Eliot was at home behind the bar as he loaded the silver drink shakers full.  

And Margo was having exactly none of it.  “What in the crotch-rotting  _ fuck _ is wrong with you?  You’ve been half-dead and worrying the fuck out of all of us, and now you want to do cocktails like nothing’s wrong?”

Eliot put a full shaker on a silver tray, alongside eight empty glasses.  “No, I want to get everyone together and put an idea before the court.  It’s important, and it’s about Q.  And me.”

“Well, isn’t everything?”  But she got to her feet.  “Okay.  For the moment, I’ll play along.  I’ll get everybody.”  

He booped her nose with his finger.  “You’re the best!”

\-----

Eight drinks sat on the silver tray, and Eliot took one before passing the rest around.  One full glass remained, for Quentin.  He plowed ahead after a fortifying sip.  “So, as you all have probably figured out, I can be an asshole sometimes.  And I want to apologize to all of you.  I’ve been selfish, thinking about what I lost, and I didn’t stop to think about what you lost.”

Alice and Margo both reached out, but it was Alice who moved in to hug.  “It’s okay, Eliot.  We all lost Q, and we all deal in different ways.”

Eliot returned the hug, then kissed her forehead.  “And that’s why we’re all here.  I’m not the only one who loved Quentin, we all loved him.  In different ways, obviously, and Q loved all of us, too.  And that’s why I can’t go alone.  It has to be all of us, every single one.  One more quest, to bring back our high king nerd.  To let him know how des-- how desperately we all need him.”  Eliot’s voice cracked near the end--this was more than he’d spoken since he’d come back.  

“I’m in.”  Margo drained her glass and put it on the tray.  “Let’s bring our boy home.”

“Me, too,” Alice agreed.  “For Quentin.”

“Better believe I’m going,” added Julia.

“What the hell,” shrugged Penny.  

Kady threw back her drink in a single gulp.  “Let’s go save that asshole.”

“Hell yes, I’m in.”  Josh chugged his drink.  “I owe him.”

That meant everyone was in, which warmed Eliot inside.  “We’re going to show those Underworld assholes so much love for Quentin they’ll never be able to say no.”  His empty glass pinged against the rim of Quentin’s full drink.  “For Quentin,” he said, echoing Alice’s words.

Six other empties pinged, and six other voices were united in repeating the toast.  “For Quentin!”

\-----

Kady brought three hedges to the apartment to help finish the body.  

Eliot was still searching for dragon gifts when Julia dropped four iron boxes on the floor at his feet.  “How about four stone organs chock full of magic?”

Eliot recoiled so fast he toppled the couch.  “Where the fuck did you get those?”

“I went back and got them after the memorial.  I thought I might be able to tap into their magic somehow, get my godhood back.  But I couldn’t, so.  I found these protection spells, you engrave them on a box and they trap everything inside.  No leakage.  Hide them in a dragon hoard, and they’ll never be used again, by anyone.”

“Uh.”  Eliot was literally climbing over the furniture and clawing the wall to get away.  “Please get those things away from me.  Margo?  Uh, Margo?”  He was reaching blindly for an anchor, because all he could smell was blood, all he could see was the rush of memory caused by the Monster’s expulsion.

“Fuck, Eliot, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”  Julia flung the boxes into the corner, and a quilt flew over them, hiding them from sight.  “I’m sorry.”

“Margo?  Quentin?  Q!”  He was still in a blind panic, panting as he fought to breathe.  

Margo flew back in from the bathroom, where she’d been trying to grab a shower.  But the scream of her name let her know something was seriously wrong.  Her robe was plastered to her wet skin, and her hair soaked through the towel and dropped down her back.  

She skidded to a halt, realizing in seconds that Eliot was smack in the middle of a panic attack.  Halfway across the room, her heart nearly broke when he called out for Quentin.  “Hey, hey, get the fuck away from him.  Eliot, honey, you’re okay.  It’s me, it’s Margo.”  Crossing the last few feet in a couple of strides, Margo touched his arm.  “Julia, I need some really cold water.  Icy. And some towels.”

When her touch didn’t cut through Eliot’s panic, she strengthened her mental wards before grabbing his face and making him turn towards her.  “Eliot.  Open your eyes and look at me.  It’s me, it’s Margo.  Open your eyes.”

Julia dropped a stack of dry towels on the couch, and an empty bucket on the floor.  A quickly-murmured spell filled the bucket with frost-tinged water.  “Anything?”

“Not yet.”  She was still trying to make Eliot respond, but he was pressed into the corner, calling alternately for Margo and Quentin.  “All right, stand back.  Last time I did this, he came around throwing battle magic.”

Julia stepped back and cast a shield over herself and Margo.  Eschewing magic herself, Margo lifted the bucket in both hands and heaved.  

The torrent of icy water soaked Eliot head to foot in a single breath.  He snapped up defensively, hands shaking but ready to cast.  “M-Margo? Where’s--”  The panic cleared and a weight settled back on his chest as his memories reminded him why Q wasn’t there.  “Holy shit.”

“Tell me about it, asshole.  You scared the shit out of me.”  She motioned to Julia to drop the shielding, and accepted the towel Julia held out.  Wrapping it around his shoulders, Margo picked up another towel to scrub at his hair.  

“Julia, uh, she found, uh, she found the perfect toll for the dragon, for the seven of us.  The uh, the four, four… stone… pieces.”  A deep breath that shuddered as it was released.  “Apparently I got all the Monster’s memories when he left me, and they just all crashed in at the same time.  I smelled the blood, I gagged on the copper in my mouth… I really need a drink.”

“I will get you one.”  Margo was rubbing his shoulders with the towel.  “And you need to change into some dry clothes.  How about I bring it upstairs and you can rest a little.”  

“Too much to get done.  We still need to find a dragon, get the body finished, and get the summoning together to call out to Hades,” Eliot finished, struggling to his feet.  

He collapsed in the next instant with a groan.

“You need to let yourself recover,” Margo pointed out.  “You can’t help Q if you’re exhausted.”

Eliot sighed, fingers twisting expertly as he cast the drying spell over them both.  “Okay.  But promise me you’ll let me help.”

“I promise.  The Sorrows and I are at your service, and we’re not gonna leave without you.”  She kissed his forehead.  “You wanna sleep down here?”

“No, I want--I  _ need _ \--to be around Q’s things.”  Eliot got to his feet, surprisingly steady for what he’d just gone through.  Leaning heavily on his cane, he started towards the bedroom.  

Once he was out of sight, Margo tamped down the desire to scream herself raw.  Maybe in a few nights she could bay at the moon and blame it on her lycanthropy.


	2. Interlude: Underworld

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet up with Quentin, bowling in the Underworld.

Quentin was bowling, because he felt kind of bad for the bellhop who was trying to figure out what to do and where to put someone who had died thirty-nine times already.  Benedict--the Fillorian mapmaker--was rolling with him because the Underworld was starting to get itself back in order. Probably something to do with the god-power that ran the place.  

“You know, I heard a rumor that dead gods end up in Elysium,” Benedict said suddenly, unrolling the map of the Underworld that he’d been working on.  “The scale isn’t right, but the positions are accurate.”

Quentin marked his score on the machine, then looked over Benedict’s shoulder.  “When Julia and I were here before, Elysium was like, a huge manor house with a bunch of kid Shades.”  He ignored the part about dead gods, because that just made him think of the Monster, the gods he’d slaughtered, and Eliot.  

From one robe pocket, Benedict pulled a charcoal pencil and begin to sketch out a manor-like house.  “Quentin?”

“Yeah?”  He sent the ball rolling down the gutter, just for a change of pace.  His score still displayed another strike.

“Why are you still here?” 

“I’m… not ready to be done yet,” he finally answered, looking down at the creased Metro Card that lived in his pocket.  “I saw my friends, I saved their lives, I did good… but I’m not done yet. I need them, or maybe I just think they need me, I don’t know.  I just know… I’m not done. There’s more to me, to my life. I never got to tell Eliot… anything. Shit always got in the way. I didn’t get to tell Alice to not hold back, that she’s great and can do anything she wants.  I didn’t tell Margo that… that I know we’re friends, and I’d trust her with my life. And Julia, God, Julia needs to know that she’s a goddess, no matter what.” He felt another presence behind him. “I didn’t tell Penny he’s a pain in the ass, but I’d do anything for him.”

“Wrong Penny, man.”  23 looked around. “Since when is the Underworld a bowling alley?  Hey, Quentin.”

“Penny!”  He was reaching for a hug, but his arms passed right through.  “Uh, since when can you astral project down here?”

“Man, I don’t even know.  Julia and Kady had this book, and Alice did something, and you know what?  I don’t have a lot of time. I’m supposed to tell you, from all of us,  _ stay put, asshole. _  Direct quote.  And don’t eat or drink anything.”  Penny consulted one of the pulsating sigils on his arm.  “Kay, I’m almost out. Any messages to send back?”

“Just… tell everybody I love them and miss them.  And I’ll wait. Penny!!” He shouted the man’s name at the last minute.  “Tell Eliot… tell Eliot I’m counting on another fifty years!”

Penny just nodded confirmation as he disappeared.  Quentin hugged himself and smiled.


	3. Interlude:  Prepping For The Underworld

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we return to our Questers, preparing for their trip to the Underworld.

The sigils on Penny’s skin vanished as he landed back into his body with a thump.  There was a brief moment of disorientation, as always, then he opened his eyes. “Found him.  He was bowling with some Fillory-looking dude.”

Julia giggled.  “Yes! He’s still there, I knew he hadn’t moved on yet.”

“Yeah, well, I told him to stay put and not eat or drink.  He said tell everyone he loved you and missed you, and he’ll wait for you.”  He turned to Eliot, and the tone of his voice changed to that of someone delivering a message he really didn’t understand.  “He said he’s counting on another fifty years?” 

“That’s my Q.”  Eliot leaned back into the sofa.  Though he’d wondered if Quentin still cared, he’d known without a doubt that he’d still be in the Underworld.  Things between them were unresolved, and he knew Quentin wouldn’t leave without resolving them. And then the message, the only personal one sent, told him there was still hope.  Still time to be brave, for Quentin.

\-----

They’d put Josh in charge of provisions, and he hadn’t disappointed.  Seven bags, backpacks, and rucksacks were filled with water and food. Three cases of bottled water, five loaves worth of sandwiches (mostly peanut butter, with a few cucumber and grilled cheese thrown in for variety), and enough protein snack bars to keep a kindergarten class hyper for a month.  

He’d added some “adult beverages” at Kady’s request, so Margo had gone out and bought flasks for everybody.  Eliot had enchanted them all to be never-emptying like his own, and Alice engraved them all with initials and scrollwork that matched the cacodemon tattoos.   _ There’s nothing in there, it’s just pretty. _

Only when they got distributed did everyone realize that Margo had gotten one for Quentin, too.   _ Do you want to listen to him bitch the whole way home? _ She’d asked, but she couldn’t meet Eliot’s eyes as she put Quentin’s flask in the pack with her own.

\-----

“We all need a token,” Alice said, while Kady and Julia were sketching, erasing, and arguing over a whiteboard.  “Something that connects you to Quentin, strongest you can find.” 

“Got it,” Josh said looking up from packing the supplies one final time.  “I mean, I know what it is. But I got to go back to Brakebills to get it.”

“I’ve got his crown,” Margo answered after a minute, and lifted a gold chain from underneath her shirt.  Shrunken to pendant sized and scorched from the fire, the crown was warm when Eliot touched it, then she let it drop back down against her skin.  “We’ve all got pieces of Q that we carry with us, or at least that we keep close.” The crown and chain had disappeared under her blouse again. 

“I have to go home--my parents--my mother’s house.  There’s… I just need to, my mom won’t--”

Eliot got up and knelt beside Alice’s chair.  Her hands were fidgeting in her lap, and he held one between his own.  “I’ll go with you. Mothers love me.”

Normally she would have protested, told Eliot not to bother, she could make it, but this wasn’t normal.  Not really. “Yes, thank you. Although Stephanie might be a little different than the mothers you’re used to.”

A flash of Eliot’s old bravado peeked through as he kissed her forehead.  “Oh, honey, don’t worry. I can charm anyone for ten minutes, just ask Bristlycoat.  Buddy system, okay? Margo, you go with Josh, and--Penny.”

“I got it covered, don’t sweat.  I’ll stay with the ladies, and if anyone hits a snag, I’ll travel there and get you out.  Just hit me up.” 

“All right, then!  We’re ready for the Underworld tomorrow.”


	4. Interlude: Underworld (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Checking back in with Quentin in the Underworld, where he gets closure.

Quentin felt them as soon as they arrived.  Seven pulls on him, some stronger than others, three nearly yanking him off his feet.  He felt as though he could fly through the air, but the Underworld’s magic kept him firmly planted on the ground.

Benedict had left, but then he’d gotten to spend an afternoon with his father.  He’d cried as soon as Ted Coldwater walked into the bowling alley, and he’d hugged until he thought his arms would fall off.   _ Hey there, Curly Q _ , had sent him into tears again, and  _ Quentin, I was hoping I wouldn’t be seeing you for a long time _ made him feel even worse.  But what had broken him, what nearly had him, was his father’s begging.   _ Come on, Curly Q.  It’s time to go.  _

_ What do you mean? _

_ I was waiting for you, Q.  I had to make sure you were okay.  So now it’s time for us to go on. Together. _

_ I can’t, Dad.  I promised to stay.  I can’t leave. There’s people--my friends--I promised to stay.  For them.  _ **He tried to give his MetroCard to his father, but Ted already had one.** _  I love you, Dad. _

_ I love you, Curly Q.  A white doorway appeared, and his father walked through it, vanished. _

Two days later, he felt them arrive.


	5. ride on this endless road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Questers meet the Hudson River dragon, and get sent to the Underworld to find Quentin and bring him home.

Kady had contacts in the Hedge Witch black market, and she’d gotten enough teeth for all of them--including Quentin--no questions asked.  They were going to bring back his soul, so they had to bring his body along, too. 

Because Julia had dealt with the dragon before, she gathered everyone around the manhole cover, and Alice bent the streetlights around them to hide the group.  Josh and Margo carried Q between them, and Kady fed the teeth into the manhole. The cover retracted, and they were all soon standing in front of the dragon. 

“Rather a large snack, come to visit me today,” the dragon remarked, showing her teeth.  “And is all ready for eating.”

“No!”  Eliot moved out to stand over Quentin.  “He is not for eating.”

Her nostrils flared, scenting.  “Someone is certainly in love.” Another sniff.  “There’s a lot of love in this sewer today. I may vomit.”  The dragon focused on Julia. “What did you bring me today, goddess?”

Kady, Julia, Josh and Penny took metal boxes out of their packs.  

The dragon’s eyes narrowed at her head lifted.  “You bring those defilements into my presence?”

“Yes, we do,” Julia answered bravely.  “You are the most powerful being we know, and the only one we trust.  Accept these gifts, and allow us passage.” Julia held out her box, and after a moment, the others followed suit while the rest joined Eliot to circle Quentin’s body protectively.

Tiny tendrils of smoke drifted upwards.  “You do know what you offer, goddess?”

“Yes, and their owner will never return for them, Great Lady.”  Julia kept her eyes squarely on the dragon. 

“And you offer all four?”

“Of course.”

The dragon sighed.  “The seven of you live ones, and no eating the dead one either, for the set?”

“If that pleases you, Lady.”

The dragon’s tail twitched, and a tiny box tumbled out of the hoard.  “For the set, I suppose I can return this.”

Julia put her box on the floor beside the dragon, and waited until all four had disappeared into the hoard before taking the gift.  The Fillory button was still in the same box, and she bowed deeply. “You are indeed generous.”

The dragon tried to hide her smile.  “You are tolerable, goddess. You have forty-eight hours.”

\-----

Seven people landed in a circle.  Disorientation reigned, until Eliot caught his reflection in a nearby window.  Everybody else followed suit, and the moment passed. 

“Penny, you said the bowling alley, right?”  Julia was looking around to get her bearings.  

“Yup, bowling alley,” he confirmed.

“Then we need to go that way, and as soon as we get there… Eliot, you and Penny find Quentin.  Josh, you’ll need to help the three of us set up the sigil to petition Hades.” Without waiting for nods, Julia set off across the crowded lobby, ducking bellhops.  

Making sure their bags and items were still with them, everyone followed Julia.  

\-----

Quentin was vibrating like a plucked string.  Seven strings pulled at him, and now that they were close, he could feel the familiar textures of his friends.  

Julia’s was instantly recognizable, because he had known her most of his life.  She was brimming over with both power and pain, a tiny maelstrom that fed off itself.  Eliot was second, cool and smooth like chilled vodka and cigarette smoke. There was Alice, hard and cold and faceted like a diamond.  Margo, strong and slick and glossy like armor and cinnamon; Penny, spicy and tart; Josh, the toasty feel of fresh baking and blazing joints; Kady, angry and fierce and determined.  

He hovered near the doorway, waiting.


	6. where the lizard lingers long under the sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin and his friends are reunited, and come face to face with Our Lady Underground and her husband, the Lord of the Underworld.

Eliot saw Quentin by the entryway, rocking on his heels and craning his neck.  Eliot’s grip on Margo’s wrist grew viselike. “There he is,” he whispered.

Margo’s fairy eye picked him out immediately, along with the delicate golden strands of magic that tied Quentin to the Underworld.  The adorable foot-to-foot shuffle of eagerness made her want to punch a hole in the nearest wall. “Hey, nerd boy!” she shouted.

Quentin recognized Margo’s shout and gave a cry of “Oh my God!  Margo!” and bolted towards her voice. He skidded to a halt, though, when he realized everyone had come for him--including Eliot.  

“Q!”  Julia shoved ahead and hugged her best friend tightly.  And then she punched him in the shoulder, hard as she could.  “Asshole! What did you think you were doing, trying to be the hero?”  She smacked him again and again, but her blows were losing strength. “You left me behind, again.  What am I supposed to do without you?”

The rapid mood swings almost gave him whiplash.  Q just kept Julia tucked against his chest almost helplessly.  “I’m sorry, Jules. Really, I didn’t--I really didn’t mean to--fuck, I’m not the hero, okay?  I just, I did what I had to do?”

“Did you want to die?”  

Quentin turned to Eliot, who had asked the question.  “What?”

“Pot.  Kettle.  Black,” Margo hissed.  “Maybe this isn’t the time to burn that bridge down, El.”

Julia pushed away so she could look Q in the face.  “He’s got a point. Did you want to die? Do you want to be here?”

“Or, fine, let’s do this now,” Margo muttered.  “Mr. Not-So-Low-Key-Anymore-Death-Wish wants to know if the clinically depressed ultra-nerd is suicidal.”  She blew out a sharp huff and looked apologetically at Quentin. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.  I mean, you’re not wrong.  Not tactful, maybe, but not wrong.”  HE sighed. “Look, to be honest, I don’t know.  Last year? My God it sucked. The Monster, worrying about Eliot, no magic to speak of, the stress of everything, my dad dying…”  He stopped, trying to organize his words. “So much shit, and near the end there… yeah. I was deep in it, and… and… and nobody cared.  Nobody asked how I felt, was I okay, couldn’t they help? So, you know. It felt like the right choice except  _ I wasn’t done. _  So maybe, I guess, is the answer?  Maybe I did, but I didn’t actively seek it out.  I just… it was a sacrifice to save my friends. To save magic?  To save Eliot? It’s enough for me.” 

Alice came up beside him, taking his hand.  “Don’t we get a say? Sure, okay, you say you’re making this sacrifice for all of us, but don’t we get a say?  It’s not just your life, Q, it never was. It affects all of us. There’s a big Quentin-shaped hole in the world now, and nothing fits.”

Margo, again.  “You’re the heart of the machine, Q,” she said, surprisingly honest.  “I don’t know how, but somewhere along the way, you kinda wormed your way in and never left.”

“We’re here to take you back, if you want to go,” Alice said.

“Or even if you don’t,” added Margo.  “We’re not picky. So, out with it. You coming, or we dragging your sorry ass out of here?”

Quentin looked at Julia and Alice, then Margo and Eliot.  But it was Eliot he held eye contact with. “I’m coming.”

Heartfelt smiles all around.  “Kady and Josh and Penny are setting up the sigil to summon Hades, and--”

“You aren’t going to need that, Julia.”  Persephone stood beside her husband. “This is my husband, Hades.  Honey, this is Julia. And these… are Quentin’s friends.”

Everyone gathered around Quentin.  “My Lady.” 

Persephone held up her hand.  “Please. Let me see. You’re on a quest to return your friend to life.”  She didn’t wait for an answer. “Quentin, I’m not strictly allowed to tell you this, but…” and here she flashed a loving smile at Hades.  “Who’s going to report me? If you choose to move on now, you will be welcomed into Elysium. You earned it.”

“And what if I want to go back?”  Quentin stepped out from behind Eliot, who was grabbing at his arm.  “Stop,” he hissed. “I mean, that’s… a really great offer, but… I think I’m needed elsewhere.  These guys. They came for me.”

“Tokens,” Alice whispered, and there was a sudden flurry of motion as items were removed from backpacks.  

A wave of her hand, and a pile of seven objects landed at Persephone’s feet.  “A crown from High King Margo of Fillory; a deck of Brakebills playing cards from Our Lady of the Tree; oh… a David Bowie poster from Josh.  This was a great concert. A broken coffee mug from Alice, and… my goodness, Penny! This is a big one, Taylor Swift? We know how much your other Penny despises her.”  The last item she picked up was a sealed mason jar, holding a single peach and a single plum.

Hades cleared his throat, and a giant set of scales appeared, with Quentin perched on one side.  “My friend Anubis lent me these a millennia ago. Instead of a feather, we have the weight of Quentin’s love for all of you.  Each of your loves for him must balance the scale. Then we will consider.”

Persephone passed the deck of cards over first.  “Julia’s love,” she said with a gentle smile. On the wall above her head, a young Quentin Coldwater was doing clumsy card tricks for young Julia Wicker.  His boyish voice echoed throughout the bowling alley.  _ “Magic is real, Julia, and I’ll prove it to you!” _  A single tear splashed on the deck of cards as she placed it in Hades’ hand.  He looked thoughtfully at the deck, and then lay the pack on the empty half of the scales.

A perfect balance.

Next she unfurled the Bowie poster again.  “I can’t wait to see this.” The poster itself played out the Unity Key saga, complete with musical interlude.  Once it was finished, the poster rolled back up into Persephone’s hand, and she placed it onto the scale.

Another perfect balance.

Item after item after item revealed its story to Persephone and the group, and each item perfectly balanced the scales.  Finally, the last token remained, and Persephone gently removed the fruit from the jar.

To everyone’s surprise, nothing showed from the fruit, except obviously to Persephone.  Her face, already damp from viewing the other tokens, crumpled into soft, heaving sobs. The fruit rolled gently from her palms to her husband’s, then onto the scales.  

The scales aligned perfectly, then tipped.  Far out of balance, as if the fruits were a burden too heavy to be borne.  Far enough out of balance that Quentin was almost thrown off the scale. 

With hands wet from weeping, Persephone took the fruit off the scales and offered them again to Hades in silent entreaty.

Hades took the offering into his hands and closed his eyes.  He gasped softly. Persephone herself rested her hands on Quentin’s shoulders, taking strength.  “While the other items had love, this… these carry a lifetime and more. Your minds could not take it in.  Perhaps Julia could, in time.”

Everybody exchanged uncomfortable glances before staring attentively at either Eliot or Hades.  Finally Hades opened his eyes, and the fruit disappeared from his grasp and rematerialized back inside the sealed jar.  Reaching for Persephone’s hand, he kissed the palm of it, tasting her tears. “You have moved my beloved Queen, and you have therefore moved me.  Quentin Makepeace Coldwater, you are free to return. Hold tight to him, all of you, because if you lose your grip on him, he returns to us.”

Persephone gave Quentin’s cheek a gentle caress.  “Travel safely, Questers.” A double-door appeared behind them.  “Go through there.” The gods disappeared, but the doorway remained.  

As soon as they were alone, everyone fell onto Quentin in a dogpile.  Hugs and punches were thrown with equal abandon, and finally everyone let him breathe as he sat up.  Margo was on one side of him, and Alice the other. 

“Look, we’ve got twelve hours left,” Julia reported.  “Pack up your stuff, and if you’re hungry, eat now. But we need to get going, soon.”  

“If anybody’s got water, I--”  A bottle appeared over Q’s shoulder.  “Thanks.”

“Thank Josh, he’s the one who packed extra for everybody,” Kady replied, tossing a second bottle over while Quentin chugged the first.  

“You’re welcome!  And if you’re hungry, I have salted caramel peanut bars, strawberry cereal bars, Fruity Pebbles bar, or…” he whipped out a silver foil package and held it up.  “Wild Berry Pop Tarts.”

That made Quentin laugh, sending water spraying out of his nose as he coughed.  A hand thumped him helpfully on the back, then rubbed between his shoulders. “I hate Pop Tarts,” he wheezed between laughs.  

Elliot had packed his jar away, and he stood there in the shadow, staring at Quentin.  He’d deliberately stayed in the background after upsetting Q before, and it made him nervous as fuck that Quentin was ignoring him.  

Margo gave her seat up to Julia and moved to where Eliot was lurking.  “So… what are you doing?”

“Observing.”  He put his arm around her shoulders.

“Observing what?  We won, we got Q back, and I think your peaches and plums or whatever they were kinda put it over the top.  You should be happy!” Margo thumped his chest. 

“I am.  I’m also aware that I pissed him off, and I owe him so many words of apology that I don’t even know where to start.  I also owe him privacy. When he asked me for a chance, we were alone. I’d like us to be alone again when we talk.”

“Can I at least get a hug?”  Quentin was standing behind Eliot. “It’s been--”

Eliot didn’t even let him finish.  He pulled Quentin into his arms and tucked him close.  One hand cradled Q’s head as it rested on his shoulder, and he pressed a kiss onto Quentin’s forehead.  A weight lifted off his chest at Quentin’s contented sigh, and he let himself close his eyes as he felt Q nestling in a little closer.

Margo gasped, because she could see the golden threads falling away from Quentin as soon as Eliot embraced him.  They fluttered to the floor and broke into nothingness. 

“Everything okay?”

“Oh, oh, yeah.  It’s fine.” Margo cleared her throat.  “We figure out how we’re all gonna hold on to Q so we don’t lose him on the way out?”

“I think so,” Alice answered.  “But it is going to be a little awkward.  But yeah, I think we got it. Eliot, you strong enough to pick Quentin up and carry him?”

Eliot nodded; he could run a marathon with Q on his back if he had to.  “Yeah, I got him.”

“Good.  Okay, Josh, you get his knees.  Julia, you and Penny take a foot each.  Kady, get his head. Margo, you and me, we’re gonna grab his hands, and Eliot, you get his shoulders,” Alice instructed.  

Quentin just stayed pressed against Eliot.  “What do I do?”

“Just lie there and think light thoughts.”  Eliot kissed Quentin’s forehead again. “Trust us.”

“I do.”  Quentin relaxed against Eliot as he was lifted into the air.


	7. gonna wait on the line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin returns, thanks to all his friends, and they make sure that he's fully back and functional. (Get your mind out of the gutter, perv. We're not there yet.)

After a few false starts and three dropped body parts, the awkward group carrying Quentin started moving towards the double doors.  The hallway beyond was wide, endlessly long, and headed towards an infinite bright light.  From his reclined position, Quentin saw nothing but an unchanging expanse of white ceiling.  Closing his eyes quelled the nausea, and it helped him focus on his friends.  

They were literally, physically supporting him.  Lifting him up with their strength and going out of their way to bring him back.  Many questions bubbled up, and Q tried to make a mental list of everything going through his mind.  Like, why did Kady put aside her work with the Hedges to help him?  What was happening with Julia’s goddess thing?  Why did Margo have his crown?  Was he still a king--probably not, with the whole election thing, and was Margo going to try and take Fillory back?  And Fen, would Fen help?

A soft chuckle from beside him caught his attention, and he looked over at Eliot, who was smiling.  “What?” he whispered.

“You are  _ actively _ thinking loudly enough that I can see the wheels turning.”  And it was lovely to see, because it was quintessential Quentin.  “Everyone else is quietly concentrating, and I hear little rumbles from your head every time you change trains of thought!  Stop thinking, Q.”

Quentin huffed.  “ _ I _ am quietly concentrating, too,” he protested in what he thought was a stage whisper.

“Hey, assholes, how about shutting the fuck up?” shouted Margo.

“Sorry!” they both chorused, and Quentin gave Eliot a scathing look.  “Got me in trouble.”

“I’m punching the next person who speaks,” Kady growled, falling out of step for a second before syncing back up.

Not wanting to test that particular threat, Quentin and Eliot traded another look, but remained silent.

\-----

“Pity.  I was just about to have dinner.”  

Quentin opened his eyes and found himself staring at the dragon.  Hands appeared from all sides, and Quentin let Penny and Eliot pull him up to his feet.  Even though it was the New York sewer system, it smelled sweet as freedom.  

“If you’re back, say something,” Eliot demanded.  

“But I don’t want Kady to hit me,” was the first thing that popped out, unfiltered. 

“Dumbass.”  Kady thumped him on the shoulder, thought hard for a second, then hugged Q quickly, releasing before he could return it.  “Glad you’re back,” she added.

Everyone laughed except Alice, who looked serious.  “Q, we need to get you back, and make sure everything’s working.”

“Uh, can I take Penny?”  Every head, including Penny’s, swiveled at Josh’s question.  “Groceries.  Food.  Big dinner.  Need help with bags.  Sous-chef,” he clarified.  

Quentin noticed Penny’s furtive glance towards Julia, and her subtle nod of agreement.  “Yeah, no problem,” Penny answered.  “Everybody, join hands.”

Alice took Q’s right hand, and Eliot the left.  Margo grabbed onto Eliot, and Josh grabbed onto Margo.  Kady grabbed Josh, and Julia ended the circle between Penny and Kady.  Penny took Alice’s other hand, and they vanished as one from the dragon’s lair.  

They reappeared in the apartment, and for a few moments, Quentin was overwhelmed.  It felt like the Monster was still everywhere, and when Eliot tried letting go, Q hung on.  “Q?”

“No, I’m okay.”  But he still didn’t let go.  “It’s just, a lot of shit happened here, not all of it great.  I’m just getting used to here, here, and the apartment here, I guess, without the Monster.”

At that, Eliot tightened his grip on Quentin’s hand.  “I’m here now, and I’m okay,” he reassured.  “Thanks to you, thanks to all of you, but especially to you.  If you hadn’t understood my message, or if you hadn't believed me, I’d be dead.”

Alice had unfurled a sheet which she’d laid out to protect the carpet.  On the sheet she’d drawn several incomprehensible sigils, and several other individual symbols.  “Q?  I need you over here, please,” she called.  “Eliot, Julia, you’re next.  I need to make sure you’re healing from the axes.”

“The Sorrows,” Margo corrected.  “You need to look at ‘em?”

“Not unless I find something wrong.”  Alice pointed to the center circle.  “You first, Q.”

Q reluctantly let Eliot’s hand slip out of his and stepped carefully into the circle.  All the sigils lit up in different colors, and several of the symbols spun rapidly.  “Uh, Alice?”

“Shush.”  She examined each glowing sigil carefully.  “Your anxiety is through the roof, but I think that’s natural for you.  Same with your synaptic processing; you’re running high because of the reintegration.”  But even as she looked, the firing patterns were approaching normality.  “Move around a little, move your arms and legs.”

Quentin obliged, doing a couple of jumping jacks until Alice waved him to a stop.  “How’m I doing?”

“Physically, great.  Muscles and tendons are good, coordination and skin grafting is perfect, sight is being tested in a moment.  I think you’re okay, Quentin.”

“Yes!”  Quentin did a little celebratory shuffle, complete with hair flip.

“I’m gonna go shower the sewer out of my hair,” Margo announced.  “Q, wanna come wash my back?”

“Hands to yourself, Bambi,” Eliot warned, taking Q’s place in the circle.

“I’ll look after him.  Besides, lycanthrope.  Can’t just go around infecting innocent people.”

Quentin came to a complete halt, brow furrowed while everyone else gawked openly.  “Did… did Josh  _ bite _ you?”

“Well, biting  _ was _ involved,” Margo answered with a wink.  “Come on, I’ll explain on the way.”  Looping her arm through his elbow, she propelled Quentin towards the master bath and jacuzzi.

Alice and Eliot exchanged confused looks.  “Did you--”

“No, no.  I didn’t.  Apparently I missed a lot more than I thought,” Eliot replied.

Quentin’s scandalized shriek of “ _ WHAT!?” _ echoed through the apartment.


	8. penetrating the evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margo hauls Quentin off to the bathroom because _they were just in the sewer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to TM:R discord. Tits for everybody!!

Margo pushed Quentin to sit on the closed toilet.  “Down to your bare eass, Coldwater, and into the shower.  You stink like the sewer.  Soon as you’re out, hot tub.”  She pointed at the Jacuzzi.  “Soak, at least an hour.”  Margo was stripping as she talked, and closed the shower behind herself.

“Uh, Margo?”  Quentin trailed off, turning his back on her naked silhouette through the frosted shower stall door.  He got tangled up in his shirt, and almost crashed headfirst into the wall trying to kick off his shoes at the same time.

Margo cracked open the door to peek out.  “Q?”

“Fine!” Quentin shouted, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist before taking his jeans off.  

“Okay…”  Margo didn’t sound convinced, but she drew back into the stall to finish.

Quentin crossed his arms over his bare chest, and as soon as he did, he heard Eliot’s voice in his head.   _ That’s the ticket, Coldwater.  Cover those tits. _  He dropped his arms, then dragged his hands through his hair.  

“Shower’s free,” Margo shouted, and Quentin screwed his eyes shut.  “You’re up.”

He refused to open his eyes until he heard Margo sink into the Jacuzzi.  Only then did he sprint to the shower, leaving the towel around his waist until he was safe behind the glass.

Margo was cracking up in the Jacuzzi.  “Honey, we’ve all seen it,” she called out.

“WHAT!?”  Q stopped, hair full of shampoo, and cracked the door enough to peer at Margo.

“It’s not like Alice put you together with your clothes on,” she pointed out calmly, sipping from a full glass of red wine.

He didn’t even stop to question where the hell the wine had come from.  Instead he focused like a laser on “You mean-- _ everybody? _ ”

“Penny abstained; he’s the one who went and got your clothes.  Oh, and Josh.  We already put your pants on by the time Josh brought the wood for your shoulder,” Margo calculated.  “It’s not so bad; Eliot and me and Alice already saw it, and Julia’s your best friend.”  She wisely did not mention Kady.

“Doesn’t mean I want her seeing my junk!”  Mortified, he slammed the shower stall closed.

By the time he finished washing his hair, he had sort of come to terms with the thought that everybody had seen him in some state of nudity.  No one had laughed in his face, so there was that, at least.  And Margo had a point; she’d already seen everything, and then some.  Taking a deep, bracing breath, Quentin tossed his towel into the hamper and hurried nakedly across the floor before diving into the Jacuzzi.  “Can I get--thank you.”

“Of course.”  Margo was already holding out a glass of wine even as Quentin was asking for it.  “Glad to have you back.  Eliot’s been an absolute twat to live with.”

Q ignored that.  “Margo, I have--i mean, I need to tell you something.  It’s important, at least to me.”  He took a long drink.  “You’re so strong!” he said in a rush.  “I mean, you take care of Eliot, you ruled Fillory with and without help, you even gave up your eye!  And you still find time to help people.  Me, Josh, even Fen.  You’re awesome, and sometimes people get scared of strength like yours.  You hide it well, but thank you.  Thank for letting me in.  Letting me be your friend.  Cause, you are my friend, Margo.  And I love you for that.”

Margo was, for the second time in her life, speechless.  She hadn’t expected such heartfelt words, but they were a treasure anyway.  “God dammit, Coldwater.”  There was a tightness in her throat that belied the implied anger of the expletive.

Somehow, the genuineness of the reaction made Q smile.  “It’s okay.  You helped bring me back, so we’re good.”

“Just shut up and drink.”  She reached over to clink the rim of her glass against Quentin’s.


	9. forgetting the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice and Eliot have a chat while Quentin is showering with Margo.

Alice watched Quentin disappear with Margo, and punched down a green stab of jealousy. Eliot was watching, too, with a mix of longing and trepidation. Before he could catch her staring, Alice returned her attention to the sheet.

The sigils were churning harder than they’d spun for Quentin. “Eliot, your anxiety is worse than Q’s, and your emotional state is a wreck,” she said worriedly. “Everything is so keyed up, I can’t get a physical reading.”

“Yes, well. Take my word for it; there’s nothing wrong with me a drink or five can’t fix,” he offered by way of reassurance. He stepped almost daintily out of the circle and headed for the bar.

Alice waved Julia off; Julia took one look at Eliot and left the room as quickly as she could. When Eliot turned back with two drinks, Alice accepted one without argument. “Do you want to talk about it?”

That was easy; no. He didn’t want to talk, especially to Alice, about anything. Quentin included. “Not really,” was the audible answer.

“Okay.” She was prepared to stay quiet, and was silent until it grew too uncomfortable. “He never gave up on you. He was bleeding a stone because that creature… he said your soul had been burned up. And Quentin wasn’t going to let him keep you. Right up until you came out yourself… he was determined. Afterwards, he was adamant. Team Eliot, that’s all he would say. I’m Team Eliot.”

He remembered. And he remembered every step through his repressed memories. “Too bad I couldn’t stop the Monster. Most of the time, I was hiding to save my life, like a coward. So, you and Q back together?” Because honestly, that seemed logical. Quentin would’ve been flailing, drifting, alone… just as he’d been in Fillory after Alice’s death. So he would have grabbed anything to keep himself afloat. Last time, it’d been the White Lady and Plaxco; of course it would be Alice this time.

“He said it, but then he went into the Mirror World, and no more Quentin.” She looked down at her hands in her lap. “Just a few days before that, he couldn’t trust me, we were finished, and he never wanted to see me again.”  

Eliot paused, really looked at Alice, and then at his own empty glass. “This conversation is going to require something serious.” His hands moved quickly, filling a silver cocktail shaker and adding fruit garnishes to the glasses. The shaker got tucked into his elbow, and he carried the drinks over to Alice. “Here.”  

“Thank you.” The silence between them was just this side of awkward. Alice sipped in silence, and once again, it was she who broke it. “He would have died for you. I think you should know that. The Monster threatened you, your body, said he’d kill you and find someone else to inhabit. Quentin, he dared it to. He said if it did that, then he’d burn the Monster to the ground and destroy it. I think it was afraid of him, or something, because it backed down.”

“I remember everything,” Eliot admitted quietly. “Margo knows, and Julia knows I remembered some of it, although I suspect she knows I’m lying about how much. But I don’t want Quentin knowing. Not uet, not until I can tell him myself.”

Alice made a distressed noise at first, because she honestly didn’t know what else to say except, “Jesus, Eliot…”

“Yes, thank you.” He sighed. “I’m sorry we’re not better friends,” he continued after a moment. Being brave for Q meant being brave, full stop, no qualifiers. “I didn’t try hard enough, and after what happened… well, I wanted to build you a hundred foot statue, but Fillory was broke at the time.”  

Alice downed the rest of her drink and made a face even as she held her glass out for a refill. “i’m still angry at myself, and Quentin, about that. It’s not fair, I know. You and Margo, I forgave you both a while ago.”

Eliot poured the requested refill while Alice was speaking. “In the interest of full disclosure… I know you’re going to be pissed off but I don’t regret it. I’m sorry you got hurt; that I do regret. That wasn’t intentional. But I don’t regret what we did.”

“Good,” was Alice’s surprising answer. “Q doesn’t either, although he wants to, and still feels a little guilty that he doesn’t regret it. But I understand that it was kind of like my being a niffin; the rational part of you took a back seat to the emotional intoxication.”

“Do you love Quentin?” Eliot asked it out of the blue, and steeled himself to be asked it in return.

Alice pondered that for a good five minutes. “If you’d asked me a few days ago, I probably would have said I don’t know. What I do know is, I want Quentin to have a place in m life. I’m not ready to be without him. But at the same time, I don’t really know who I am, and I can’t just keep defining myself in relation to Quentin or anyone else. So, yes. If you mean do I love him? Of course I do. But I think you’re asking me if I’m in love with him, and that’s harder to answer. But at this moment? I can say no, I’m not in love with Quentin.”

Eliot relaxed, letting out the exhale he’d been holding in. “Good. Because I am.”

“No kidding.” was Alice’s dryly sarcastic reply. “Did you know the sky is also blue?”

“Hey, the last man I loved ended up being the Beast in disguise, and I killed him. Pardon me for being careful,” he groused. “And let’s not forget King Idri was turned into a rat by Ember, which kind of put a damper on that political marriage. And speaking of political marriages, should I point out that I technically still have a wife, although upon my being deposed, the marriage contract was invalidated.”

“I’m not getting into all that. If Q decides he wants a girlfriend, he’s got to talk to you first.”  

“That’s fair,” Eliot agreed. “And if he tells me to fuck off, I’ll fuck off. And then remind you that Elle is equally good for a girl or a boy.”  

A smile ghosted across Alice’s face. “I’ll keep that in mind. Eliot… I don’t know, really, what’s going on between you and Quentin, and I don’t want to; it’s none of my business. But you need to fix it, for _your_ sake. Those axes, they’ve got really powerful magic, and if you don’t get yourself evened out, your injuries could get worse again. You’re still healing.”  

He had half a notion that Alice knew almost exactly what was going on, and the ignorance was feigned for his benefit. And he appreciated it. “Now that we got Q back, I’ll have plenty of time to get centered and get rested up,” he promised. “Good?”

“Good,” Alice echoed.


	10. the light is gently bleeding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin runs into Julia after his shower and soak.

Quentin left Margo in the hot tub, soaking with her wine.  He wrapped himself in a fluffy white robe that smelled like Eliot’s shampoo, and headed towards his bedroom for a change of clothes.  Peeking in, he was surprised to see Eliot’s clothes tossed casually over a chair, folded on top of the dresser, even hung in the closet--down to their shoes sitting neatly side by side.  “What the--”

“Eliot stayed here, and let me have his room while we were trying to get you back.”  Julia wrapped her arms around Quentin in a rib-cracking hug as soon as he turned around.  

“Jules, I missed you.”  He hugged her back as tightly as he could.

“Seriously, don’t you ever do that again, or I swear I’ll kill you myself.”  She let go of the hug but caught his hand as she followed him into the bedroom.

“Hey!”  Quentin dove behind the closet door as his robe fell open.  

“Q, I saw you naked when we were eight,” she reminded him.

“We were playing doctor, and I’m not eight any longer!” he shouted back.

Julia snickered.  “Well, parts of you are.”

“Oh my  _ God _ I hate you.”  Quentin yanked the robe’s belt tight as he pulled out jeans and a henley.  He took out the first pair of underwear he found and realized instantly it wasn’t his--red silk bikini cut?  That was all Eliot.  The second pair he found were his, and he shimmied into them under the robe.  Jeans went on next, then the robe got tossed.  A bare chest he could deal with.  

“Wuss,” Julia giggled again.  “Need I remind you, I helped Alice--”

“Jules!”  He got tangled in the shirt--again--nearly falling over.  “Margo told me.”

“Here, here, stop before you brain yourself.”  Julia helped untangle his arms, and his head finally popped out.  “I’m sorry, I just love teasing you.”  

“So does everyone else, apparently.”  The exasperation in his tone was obvious, but so was his adoration.  He sighed heavily and sat on the bed, patting it for her to join him.  She did, and they sat shoulder to shoulder.  “So how are you, really?”

“Really?”  Julia gave a wry smile.  “Margo’s axes got the creature out of me, but it screwed me over big time.  My magical body was fighting the axes’ magical wound, so…”  She looked at her hands and then clasped them together in her lap.  “I’m just plain old Magician Julia now.”

Quentin put his arm around her shoulder.  “You’re not  _ just _ anything.  Not everybody can be a Magician, and second, you are always going to be a goddess.  You have power, Jules, and nobody can take that away from you.  It’s inside of you, it’s been there from the start, and I don’t care what any stupid goddess or talking book has to say.”

Julia rested her head on Quentin’s shoulder.  “It’s okay, Q.  I just… have to remember how to be Julia the Magician instead of Julia the Goddess.”  She snuggled into his side as soon as he’d put his arm around her.  “Maybe even learn to love her again.”

Quentin made a dismissive  _ pfft _ .  “Oh, that’s easy.  Loving Julia?  I’ve done that since I was a kid.”  

“That long, huh?” she asked with a smile.  Sometimes Quentin talked as if childhood had been a hundred years ago, when sometimes, it was still evident in every single thing he did or said.

“Yep.  Total expert, here.  And if I can?  You  _ definitely _ can.”

Her smile faded a little at that.  “Do you love yourself, Quentin?”  Because that was the one question that nobody had asked in the Underworld, and he hadn’t had to provide a token to be weighed.

“Uh, me?”  Q blew out a long sigh.  “I try to,” he finally answered.  “Somedays, I fail.  A lot.  Other days, it’s not too hard.  On the really good days?  It’s easy.”

“And what’s today?”  She was almost afraid of the answer.

Quentin didn’t hesitate; how could he answer with anything except the truth?  “A really good day.” 


	11. to the brighter day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin gets a chance to talk to Penny and Kady. Neither are very forthcoming.

Penny found Julia and Quentin tucked side by side in bed together while Quentin read from one of the Fillory books.  “Hey, Josh is in the kitchen and he wants to know if anyone wants appetizers.” He looked irritated to be drafted as a waiter, but he also kind of liked being helpful, too.  “Also, Julia, Alice is looking for you. Says it’s your turn now.”

Q closed the book at the mention of Alice.  “She mention how Eliot’s doing?”

“Nah, not to me.  Can’t be too bad, though, just saw him hauling a bunch of booze to the bathroom,” Penny answered.

Yes, well, sometimes Eliot and liquor meant bad shit.  “I’m gonna go check on him.” He paused by Penny, letting Julia squeeze past.  “Hey, Penny?”

“What?”

Same old Penny, even though he was different.  “Thank you. I know it’s been hard, trying to adjust here, and--”

Penny held up his hand to forestall the verbally diarrheal spew of words.  “We’re good, dude. Really.”

That was so very typical of Penny, Quentin had to smile.  “Just so you know, I owe you.”

“Oh, I know.  And I’m  _ going _ to collect, son.”  He held his hand out.

Quentin took it, clasping it tightly before awkwardly bumping their shoulders together.  “Thanks again, Penny,” he called out towards Penny’s departing back. He took one last look at his and Eliot’s things together, then went to find him.  

Instead, he ran into Kady.  “Did you know that they locked everybody out of the bathroom?” she demanded.

“They?” he asked, pretty sure he knew who she meant.

“Them!  Fucking Eliot and Margo!”

Yep.  That’s what he’d thought.  “There’s another bathroom, right?”

“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t make me any less pissed off,” she pointed out.  

At least he knew for sure where Eliot was.  “Can’t you just use the other one?”

“I guess so, but we’re gonna have to discuss a better time share option.”  Kady made a rude gesture towards the closed door. 

Margo’s voice filtered through the locked door.  “I saw that!”

“Fuck off!” Kady bellowed.

Quentin decided the best tactic would be distraction before battle magic blew the bathroom door off its hinges.  “Hey, Kady? Can I ask you something?”

Shooting one last gesture towards the closed door, she turned her attention back to Quention.  “Uh, sure, I guess so. What is it?”

“Why did you stop what you were doing with the hedges to help me?”  He’d been genuinely wondering since he’d seen her in the Underworld.

“Oh.”  Kady tilted her head a moment, studying Q.  “Hey, I need your help first a second. I’m--”

“Sure, what do you need?”  Quentin switched gears almost immediately, ready to pitch in.

“I’ve got to figure something out.  I got this friend, and I think maybe he doesn’t realize that I like and respect him, even though he can be a bit of a dumbass.”  Clapping her hands, Kady drew an arc in the air, rainbow letters appearing to spell out the message  _ Quentin is a dumbass. _

“Oh!”  Quentin flushed a little, but he grinned anyway, even as the letters faded.  “I didn’t--I mean--”

“I get it,” Kady interrupted.  “I’m not easy to read for a reason, and I don’t trust a lot of people.  Hell, I don’t trust some of the people in this house. But you, Q, I trust you.  You’re loyal, and you’re decent. You don’t leave anybody behind. You forgive. You forgave Julia her bullshit, you forgave Alice her shit, and… I find that comforting.  Somebody like me, fucking up left and right? Kinda nice knowing there’s hope.”

Quentin looked at Kady, uncertain of what to do.  “I kind of want to hug you, but I think you’d hurt me.”

“Got that right.”  Her swagger was on full display, but she put her hand on Q’s shoulder as she walked past him.  “You’re not so bad, Quentin.”

“Back at you!”  Quentin winced, but gave her a thumbs up, and got a middle finger back for his troubles.  As she turned the hallway corner, Quentin knocked on the bathroom door. “It’s me!”

“I’m not done, you can have him in an hour!” Margo shouted through the door.  “Now get lost, or I’m flashing my tits through the door.”

“Okay, Jesus!  Keep your shirt on, please!”  He dragged his hands over his face.  “Tell him he can’t hide forever!” he shouted at Eliot, and stomped away.  

Inside the bathroom, Margo glared at Eliot, but didn’t say a word.  

“I’m not avoiding him,” Eliot said, in answer of Margo’s raised brows.  “I’m waiting.”

“Sometimes, honey… you can wait too long.”  Margo wiggled her toes against Eliot’s ankle to encourage him to resume the massage.  

Eliot obliged, but didn’t say anything else.


	12. may wish never to be born

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin confronts Alice.

Quentin threw himself onto the couch in a huff.  He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the wall.  

Alice looked over from her side of the couch; he hadn’t even seen her, she realized.  “Q? Everything okay?”

If he hadn’t been so irritated with Eliot, he’d have been startled.  As it was, he just looked at her. “I don’t know. How’s Eliot?”

“He’s all right, I think.  His anxiety was higher than yours, which made it hard to get a clear reading.  High emotional states interfere with the magic,” she explained. “You, well…. You’re used to dealing with it, and you can control it.  That’s why it worked for you, and Julia, but not really for Eliot.”

Quentin grunted at that.  “Poor Eliot. I’ve been thinking he’s been avoiding me, but Jesus.  That trip to the Underworld had to wipe him out if he’s still that fucked up.  And why wouldn’t he be? God, I’m stupid. Stupid, stupid.”

Alice bit her lip, hands fidgeting.  “You’re not stupid, Q. You and Eliot are both recovering from trauma, and people heal in different ways.  For example, I know you’ve been talking to everyone and thanking them for helping you come back. And I bet you don’t understand why the did it, am I right?”

Quentin shrugged.  “Yeah, I guess. You are.  As always.”

“I’m not trying to pick a fight, Quentin.  I’m trying to figure out what is going on with you.  Are you going to ask me why I did it, or are you going to say  _ thanks for the help, now get lost, _ or are we back together again?  I’m confused, Quentin, about so many things right now, and I think you are, too.”

Quentin’s incredulity grew with every word out of Alice’s mouth.  “I actually have no idea what I was going to say to you,” he admitted hotly.  “Even when I saw you in the Underworld, it was so much easier to just pretend things weren’t so incredibly  _ fucked _ between us!  I guess I was hoping to go with that for a little while longer, until I figured things out, but here we are!”  His hands fell to slap his thighs. 

Alice looked distressed, and she started pacing in front of the couch.  “Do you even like me any more?”

“Of course I do!  I’ve always liked you,” he added.  “I mean, you are  _ super _ talented, and gorgeous, and you can do anything you put your mind to.  So, yes, I like you.”

“Okay.  Do you trust me?”

That was a harder question to answer.  “I really want to,” was his honest decision.  “But I feel like I can’t, or shouldn’t, or something.  The choices you make, I just… okay, they’re selfish. Like suddenly you decide magic is bad, so you take it away from everybody.  And, yes, Plover is an asshole who really probably deserves to die, but you just made that decision all on your own! And, and, uh, working with the Library?  After everything? How can I trust you after all that?”

That hit Alice harder than she’d expected, and she stopped pacing to sit back down on the couch.  “Can I be honest, too?”

“I wish you would be!”

Alice looked down at her lap, but when she spoke, she met Q’s gaze straightforwardly.  “You are judgemental, Quentin. If someone you care about makes a decision you don’t approve of, you get smug, obtuse, and unpleasant.  You have so much empathy and understanding, right up until there’s a disagreement.”

“I don’t judge!  I try to understand, but--”

Alice cut him off.  “Quentin, if I don’t understand who I am or why I choose things, how can you?” she demanded.

“I guess I don’t,” he replied.  “I guess I don’t understand at all.”

“Here’s what I do know, and it’s not a lot.  But I know the world is a better place with Quentin Coldwater in it.  And I know that personally, my life is better with you in it. And I’m not ready for you to be gone.  And I know I did the right thing helping you come back. That’s it, I don’t know anything else--except that I need to figure myself out.  I can’t do that if I’m your girlfriend. We don’t work like that. We end up either fighting or fucking with no in-between.” She took a deep breath.  “I want to be your Margo. I want to earn your trust, understand you the way Margo does Eliot. But only  _ after _ I take the time to figure out how to be Alice, before I try to be Margo.”

Quentin nodded his agreement.  “Make me one promise, as a first step.  Don’t hold back. You always have, until now.  You shouldn’t hold back; be proud, show everyone what you are capable of.”

“Q, do you have any idea how much that scares me?  To know that I can go all out, right to the edge of burning up, becoming a niffin?  Nobody ever really knows their limits, but I do. And it scares me how far out that is.”

“All being scared does is make you run.  And I know running.” Eliot was standing behind the couch and leaning on his cane.  “Sorry, Josh sent Penny about appetizers, and I couldn’t help overhearing as I lurked awkwardly in the hallway,” he finished sheepishly.

“Christ, El, wear a goddamn bell or something, would you?”  Quentin vaulted up to surrender his seat to Eliot. “Wait here, I’ll hit the kitchen.”

Alice and Eliot both watched Q head back into the kitchen.  “You think you know running?” is all Alice said. 

“Our little Q certainly can sprint,” Eliot agreed.  “But he’s also right. Holding back only hurts in the end.  Better to go all out and win--or lose--big, than stumble along and end up losing anyway.”

“Are we talking about magic, or about you?”

Eliot smiled.  “About me, of course.  But is there any reason why it can’t be both?”


	13. you can't turn back the time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin (finally) runs into Josh, and finishes his conversation with Alice.

“Josh!”  Quentin banged into the kitchen, kind of visibly surprised to see Penny doing dishes.  “Hey, Penny.”

“Quentin!”  Josh wiped his hands as he turned, then tossed the dish towel over his shoulder.  “Everything in here tonight is completely drug-free, buuuuuut….” he pointed to a tray of rainbow-frosted puff pastries.  “Those are hallucinogens for midnight snacking.”

“Eliot said--”

“Hors d'oeuvres!” Josh said with flair, picking up a small covered tray.  “Cucumber finger sandwiches, with the perfect amount of dill, for Eliot, and for Margo, Wagyu beef rosettes and liver sandwiches.”  He whipped the lid off to reveal three tiers of appetizers.

“Wow, those look--”

“Amazing, right?”  Josh beamed proudly.  “And I have a surprise for dessert--who knew Marina would have a fondue pot!  Not a word about that,” he added quickly.

“Cross my heart,” Quentin promised, freeing up his right hand to match gesture to words.  “By the way, uh, thank you.  For rescuing me, and for sticking around.  And for this.”  He waved his hand to indicate the dinner preparations.

“No problem, my man.”  Josh turned back to his pots for a moment, then back to Quentin.  “You know, you were the only one who wanted to stay and help me out of that dream world or whatever it was.  No way I was going to leave you behind in the Underworld.  You showed me that I was part of a whole, a piece of something bigger than myself.  And you have no idea how much I needed that.”

Quentin sat the tray down so he wouldn’t drop it.  “Ever since we found you in the Neitherlands, you’ve been a part of the group,” he pointed out.

“That’s my point,” he agreed.  “Even after Victoria and I ditched you, I was still a part of things.  I needed that after being alone.”

Quentin held out his hand, and Josh shook it.  “Thank you, again.”

“Out!”  Josh gestured with a wooden spoon.  “Thirty minutes, at least.”

Quentin scooped up the tray in both hands and left the kitchen with a smile.  By the time he got back to the living room, Margo had joined them.  “Margo, Josh made you roses or something, and cucumber sandwiches for Eliot.”

“That’s my man.  Give me, I’m starving.”  Margo grabbed the tray and bit a rosette in half while Eliot nibbled a sandwich.

Quentin looked from Margo to Alice to Eliot, then cleared his throat.  “Hey, Alice?  Can we--like, go outside, or something, or talk?”

“You can talk here, we don’t mind.”  Margo popped the other half of the beef rosette in her mouth.

“Yeah, I mind.”  Quentin looked back at Alice.  “Yes?”

“Sure.”  Alice got off the couch, and followed Quentin onto the balcony.  As soon as they were outside, Alice cast, “Propion’s Silence Bubble,” she explained.  “It won’t stop Margo’s eye, but nobody will hear us shouting.”

“I don’t want to be shouting, do you?” Quentin demanded.

“Of course not, but it always seems to go there with us,” Alice pointed out gently.

“And that’s my fault?”

“It’s not anybody’s fault, Q, it just is.”  Alice paced the confines of the balcony.  “Why are you even bothering with me?  Eliot’s in there waiting for you.”  It was hard to miss the defensiveness that crept into her voice.

The complete change of conversational topic almost gave Quentin whiplash, and he missed it.  “What does Eliot have to do with us?”

“You just spent months obsessed with getting Eliot free, and he was just as obsessed with getting you back, but now that you’re both here, you’re practically ignoring him!”  She flung her arm out to point at Eliot on the couch.  “You’re out here, arguing with me about pointless crap!”  And there was the shouting she’d predicted.

Quentin threw his arms up in exasperation.  “What do you want from me, Alice?  Please, just tell me!”

\-----

From their vantage point on the couch, Eliot and Margo could see everything that went on.  He winced when Alice pointed their way.  “I think we just got brought into this.”

Margo took one of Eliot’s sandwiches and offered a rosette in exchange.  “I think  _ you _ did,” she corrected.

\-----

“What do I want?  Nothing!  That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!  I don’t want anything from you!  I just want,  _ someday _ , to be your friend.  If we can even  _ be _ that any longer,” Alice shouted again.  “Let me go, Quentin, for God’s sake, please.  Stop holding on to what didn’t work out.  Move on, or at least let me!  Let me stop being poor Alice who has to be saved.  I  _ hate _ that girl, Q, and I hate you for making me  _ be _ her.  I need to be a person, not somebody’s mission.  Not trying to save Charlie, or magic, or trying to undo what I’ve done.”  Her voice finally lowered.  “I need to be me, not who you expect.  I love you, Q, but we are  _ done. _  Done.  Over.  Ended.”  For a moment, Alice found it uproariously, inappropriately  _ hilarious _ that she was now repeating to Quentin a version of what he’d said to her.

“Wow.  I didn’t realize I was trapping you.  Again.”  He shook his head.  “Well, fine.  If that’s how you feel about it?”  A shrug of his shoulders.  “Quentin says go free.”  His tattoo trap writhed emptily, then settled again.  “Goodbye, Alice.”  He opened the sliding glass door, breaking the silence bubble with an audible  _ pop _ .

Alice caught the door before it could slam or shatter, and didn’t try to stop Quentin as he stomped past the couch and left the apartment with not a word to anyone.

“I’ll go,” Eliot volunteered.

“Better let me.”  Margo stilled Eliot with a touch to his leg.

“I’ll, um, I’ll go tell Josh dinner might be late,” Alice said quietly, head down and staring at the floor as she walked.

“I’ll… stay here and drink,” Eliot said to the room at large, because clearly, no one was listening.


	14. Interlude: Emotional Stability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Margo is the most emotionally stable person in the room, the room is fucked. Just saying.

“Q, wait up!”  Margo caught up with Quentin by the elevator.  “Hey, what’s going on?”

“None of your business, Margo.”  Q kept pressing the button, as if that would speed the elevator along.

“Not this time.”  Margo put her hand over Quentin’s to still it.  “Talk.”

“God, she pisses me off so much!” he exploded.  “She calls  _ me _ judgmental, then blames me because I’m always the one pulling her ass out when she makes bad choices!  I’m the one trapping her, or whatever!”  Quentin used half-hearted air quotes around  _ trapping her _ , then let his hands fall.  “And then, out of the fucking blue, she brings up Eliot, like I’m the one ignoring him or something, and I’m the one who had to ask for a hug!  I don’t ever remember having to ask!  Like not once.”

It didn’t take an idiot to connect point A to point E.  “When I’m the one who’s emotionally stable, we are fucked,” Margo said, just to make Quentin smile.  It worked, at least enough to get a half-hearted chuckle and an eyeroll.  “Do you think, just maybe, you and Alice are upset about two different things and yelling at each other is easier than dealing?”

Quentin slid down the wall, knees drawn up against his chest.  “Why can’t things be simple?  They used to be, right?  At least, more simple than now.”

Margo sat beside him, careful to tuck her skirt so she didn’t accidentally flash him.  “It’s like magic, Q.  Popper 1 might be simple, but by the time you’re casting Thibideau’s Planar Compression, it’s not that easy anymore.”

“Is that why there’s way more rooms here than I remember?” Q asked, blinking.

“Yup.  Alice and Julia did it.  But you’re missing the point, which is--”

“Which is being a grown-up sucks?”  Quentin thumped his head against the wall.  “I know things change when life happens, but like, when does shit happen to somebody else and not us?”

“It happens to everybody all the time,” Margo said gently, putting her arm around Quentin’s shoulders.

Q leaned into her, hiding his face.  “Then I’d like it to stop now, please.”

“Wouldn’t we all.”  Margo kissed the top of his head.  “Come on, Q.  Can’t have a party without the guest of honor.”  Keeping him tucked close to her side, she got to her feet and then pulled him alongside.  “By the way?  He’s not ignoring you.  he’s waiting to get you alone so you can have privacy.”

“He’s what?”  Quentin blinked.  “Privacy?”

“Don’t look at me like that.  Eliot said he owed you privacy.”

“He’s--are you--idiot!”  Quentin didn’t notice they were at the apartment door until they were already halfway through it.  “A big idiot!”

Margo snorted.  “You’re telling me?”

As soon as the door was opened, Quentin stomped over to the couch, grabbed the drink out of Eliot’s hand, locked his own hand around Eliot’s wrist, and yanked.

Bemused but willing, Eliot let himself be towed along until Quentin stopped and shoved him into their bedroom--really, Q’s bedroom, but he’d been squatting, so… “Uh, Q?”

“Shut it.”  Quentin closed the bedroom door and his fingers flew as he cast the silence spell.  Once he was done casting, he faced Eliot.  “There.  We have privacy now.”


	15. fly me higher to the brighter day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally we're getting to the goods! Quentin and Eliot finally have a chance to chat.

Briefly, Eliot reminded himself to give Margo something very large and very sparkly and very pretty.  Outwardly, all he said was, “Thank God,” then stepped towards Quentin.

And Quentin was already there, meeting him and reaching out.  

They met in a hard, desperate crush of mouths and bodies, hands fighting to touch as their kiss deepened.  Eliot’s hands ended up cupping Quentin’s face as Q grabbed the back of Eliot’s neck. Over and over the kiss broke, for air-starved lungs, for panting breaths, for the sheer  _ joy _ of starting over.  Desperate and needy, it felt like an eternity.  

A lifetime.

But when Quentin started unbuttoning Eliot’s shirt, he gasped softly.  “Q, wait. Stop. Please, I need--”

Quentin immediately froze at  _ stop _ , and hurt mixed with confusion filled his face as he looked up at Eliot.  “I-I-I-I-don’t, I don’t, I don’t understand.”

Eliot grabbed Quentin’s face and kissed him again, but pulled away.  “I need to say some things, and I think you do, too, but please believe me when I say that I fully intend to pick this up right where we left off, okay?”

“Okay.”  Quentin licked his lips, and Eliot groaned softly.  “What?”

“Nothing.”  He pushed Quentin to sit on the bed, and realized very quickly that wasn’t going to work.  “Uh, over there.” He moved the clothes from the chair with a wave of his hand, and waited for Quentin to sit.  “Okay, better. Less distracting, anyway.”

“El--”

“No, no, I’m good.”  He drew in a deep breath.  “Okay, you know how you told me that you were really good at running away from things?”  He barely waited for Quentin to nod, because the words were pouring out too quickly. “Well, as it happens, you are not the only sprinter in this relationship.  When you run, you run towards something. Like Fillory, for example. And when I run, I just… run. Away. I ran away from Indiana, I ran away from who I used to be, and… I ran away from you.”

“Eliot, what are you getting at?”  Because Quentin thought he had a fair idea of what Eliot was saying, but he wasn’t going to risk his hopes on his faulty assumptions.

“What I’m getting at?  A really good, decent person asked me for something real, and that scared the hell out of me.  So, I lashed out, and I hurt… I hurt the one person who loved me for an entire lifetime because I was afraid I could never live up to that again.  I ran. But not far enough, because when I had to relive my absolute worst memory? It wasn’t Logan Kinnear, or my childhood on that fucking farm, or any of the times I’ve betrayed my friends.  It was sitting in that Whitespire throne room in Fillory, telling you that it wouldn’t work.”

Quentin got up from the chair and wrapped his arms around Eliot.  He didn’t speak, just held as tightly as he could manage. After a moment of stiffness, Eliot softened in Q’s arms and returned the embrace.  “In case you didn’t notice, that was me apologizing,” Eliot said softly. “Possibly I need to work on that.”

Quentin’s laugh was half-sob.  “No, I got that.” He squeezed even tighter.

Eliot cradled the back of Q’s head.  “I knew that I was wrong when you said you were going stay at Blackspire with the Monster, forever.  I couldn’t handle the idea of never seeing you again.”

“Not your best choice,” Q pointed out, sniffling.

“At the time, it seemed the logical thing to do,” Eliot defended, not attempting to let Quentin go.  “And when I got free and you were dead, it felt like whatever wasn’t already dead inside of me died right then.  Nothing mattered, nothing was worth caring about again. But then Julia said we could get you back, and I knew. If I got you back, I would apologize, and then let you decide.”

“See, that’s where you’re a dumbass,” Quentin said through a tight throat.  “I fought that Monster for you. I knew you were in there, I never gave up on getting you back.  And when you got back, I was going to tell you that I can choose, and I’m choosing you.” Then he pulled away, to look Eliot in the eye.  “But then you wouldn’t even touch me in the Underworld--I’ve never had to ask! And when we got back here, I thought you were ignoring me.  Then Alice said your emotions were all keyed up, so I thought, okay, my bad. Then she said I was ignoring you--which, I totally wasn’t, by the way.  And then Margo said you were waiting for privacy, so I figured you were going to dump me again. But that kiss, wow.”

“I just wanted a chance to talk to you alone,” Eliot answered.  “You waited, in Fillory, until it was just us, and I wanted to do the same for you.”

“Yeah, I get that now.”  Q pulled out of the embrace and started pacing.  “But you hurt me, El. And now I have to second-guess myself on everything, because I thought I knew, you know?  And then you turn me down, and then there’s the Quest, and the Monster, and I never really got to be pissed off at you.  And I don’t really want to be, but I kinda think I am, which really sucks because all I want to do is crawl in bed with you and maybe sleep for a week because the Monster threatened to kill your body when he caught me sleeping.”

Eliot let Quentin go, because he deserved to have his say.  Guilt gnawed at him as Q revealed how deeply he’d been fucked up, by both Eliot and the Monster.  “I remember,” he said quietly, as Quentin finished.

“What did you say?”  Quentin stopped mid-pace and turned to fully face his friend.

“I remember,” Eliot repeated.  “I remember everything. I remember watching you destroy your dad’s planes, and I just wanted to reach out and comfort you.  I remember when he tried to kill you and you told him if he hurt me, you’d abandon him, and I thought you were brave. I remember blood, broken bodies… all of it. And I couldn’t stop it.”

Quentin pulled Eliot onto the bed and then spooned in behind him.  “Jesus, El. Nobody could stop him. Not alone. I mean, it took literally the entire Magician population of New York--maybe more, with all the safe houses Kady got together--to take them down.  You did the most important thing. You survived long enough for us to rescue you.”

Eliot curled up gratefully against Quentin.  “That doesn’t make me any less of a coward.”

“You fought your way out, to me,” Quentin pointed out.  “That was our life, our words, and you kept them a secret until you needed them.  And you trusted me to understand, to be there to hear you.” It had made more sense in his head, and he hoped that Eliot understood it.

He got it.  “It honestly never occurred to me that you wouldn’t be there trying to help me.”

“Because I love you, Eliot.  I need you to know that. I loved you even after you pushed me away.  I loved you while you were possessed, and I loved you while I was in the Underworld.  And I love you now.” 

Eliot picked up Quentin’s hand, playing with every finger and caressing the palm.  “And where does Alice fit in? I know--”

“Alice doesn’t fit in anywhere,” Quentin interrupted emphatically.  “We might be friends in a few months or years or something, but that’s it.  I chose to let her go, just like I’m choosing to hold onto you.”

“Given that I can once again leave Fillory at will, and Fen is actually High King, I’m assuming that my marriage to her is no longer valid, but--”

“We’ll figure it out.  We’ll make it work. If you want to.”

“I want to.”  Looking at his own hands, Eliot slipped one of his silver rings off, and pushed it onto Quentin’s middle finger.  

“I’m still mad, and I’ll probably yell at you some more,” Quentin warned, feeling the warm metal against his skin.  

“I fully expect and respect that,” Eliot agreed.  “This is only the start. Lots more to discuss.” He rolled over to face Quentin.

“But later,” Quentin murmured, reaching his hand out to trace down Eliot’s collar.

“Yes, later.  After we’ve broken the bed fucking, like on our third anniversary,” Eliot added, pressing short kisses to Quentin’s lips between words.  

“Fourth,” Quentin corrected between kisses, and when he started unbuttoning this time, Eliot didn’t stop him.  He smoothed his hands over Eliot’s chest, feeling the familiar heartbeat tripping merrily under his fingertips.

“Okay, fourth.”  Eliot shivered when Quentin’s thumbs brushed over his nipples, then shot bolt upright when a fist pounded on the door.  “Fuck me.”

“I was trying to.”  Quentin rolled out of bed, opening the door and breaking the silence spell.  “What?”

"It was quiet for so long we thought you might be dead.  Or fucking.” Margo smirked. “No blood running out from under the door made me assume fucking.”

“You’re such a cockblock, Bambi.”  Eliot came to the door, shirt open but hastily tucked in.  “We were just talking.”

“Uh huh.  Dinner’s on the table, we’re all waiting for Q, and I’m hungry.  Move it.” She landed an encouraging slap on Quentin’s ass to move him along.  

“God, I really hate you.”  Quentin offered his arm, and Margo put her hand in his elbow.

“You really don’t.”  Margo smiled as Eliot appeared at her other side and took her other hand.  She beamed brightly as her best boys escorted her to the table, where everybody else was waiting.


	16. Epilogue:  Quentin and Eliot, Bedroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After dinner, a few things need to be worked out. In some cases, physically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter! It could be looked at as a bonus chapter, I suppose, since it's an epilogue, but mostly it's a chapter that I wanted to write, to show that things can end happily for Quentin. I'm so grateful to everyone who has followed along, and I'm thrilled you've all enjoyed it! I hope this last chapter isn't a disappointment! Love, Kelex

“I’m never eating again.”  Quentin collapsed onto the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Josh’s dinner had been a huge success, down to the chocolate fondue fountain for dessert.  Penny had even Traveled to Fillory and brought Fen back. To Quentin’s surprise, she had hugged him until his ribs creaked.

“If we ever manage to get Margo reinstated as High King, I’m going to suggest we make Josh the official Royal Chef.”  Eliot lay beside Quentin, rolling onto his side. “So, I think Julia is going to be banging Penny tonight.”

“Uh, yeah, probably, given the way they were staring at each other all night,” Quentin agreed.  “Your point?”

“Just that there’s a spare bedroom available tonight.”

Quentin rolled so that they were face to face.  “So?”

“So maybe you want to sleep alone tonight.  Or maybe you think I shouldn’t--”

Eliot’s words got cut off when Quentin’s hand cupped the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss.  By the time it broke, Eliot had completely forgotten his train of thought. 

Quentin hadn’t.  “Now, why do you think we need a spare bedroom?  I mean, do you not want--”

“Oh, I want.  Believe me, I want.  But, uh, I realized during dinner that maybe we weren’t thinking with our big brains.  So I thought I’d try this thing where I’m noble and try to earn your trust back by not immediately fucking you through the nearest flat surface.”  Eliot licked his lips nervously, which, bad idea. All he tasted was Quentin.

“Your nobility is duly noted.  But why don’t you just try  _ asking _ me what I want?”  Quentin ran his fingers through Eliot’s hair.

“Um, all right.”  Eliot leaned gently into the touch and cleared his throat.  “Quentin, what do you wamt?”

“I want you, Eliot.  I don’t want you sleeping in another bedroom.  I like you in mine. Yes, we still have talking to do, but you know what?  I don’t care. I don’t. You’re here, and I’m here, and we’re together, and what I really, really want at this moment is for you to just be with me, and don’t ever leave again, okay?”

Eliot pulled Quentin into his arms.  “Okay. I’m not going anywhere, Q. I promise.”  His cheek rested on Quentin’s hair, and he felt Q move in closer.  “You know I love you too, right?”

A choked laugh that turned into a complete sob.  “It’s nice to hear, but yeah, at least I hoped so.”  

“I’ll remember to say it more.”  Eliot kissed Quentin’s forehead. 

“So, uh, all that talk before of breaking beds, that’s still on, right?”  Quentin’s expression was part playful, part hopeful, and a dash of trepidation.  

“Oh, it’s on like Donkey Kong,” Eliot confirmed, just to make Quentin smile.  Then he tilted Q’s chin up enough for a real, proper kiss. His thumbs rubbed Quentin’s cheekbones, feeling the familiar warm flush that always came with kissing Quentin Coldwater.  Their tongues met hungrily, with quiet moans and soft, wet little noises. 

Quentin’s hands were busy with buttons, first on Eliot’s vest, which came off in short order, then onto his shirt.  Panting softly, he shivered when Eliot yanked his shirt untucked, tossing the crisp button-down aside with a flick of his wrist.  Desperate to stay touching, Quentin raised his arms just enough to let Eliot drag his shirt over his head, even as he strained for more kisses.  “Closer,” he gasped out. 

Happily obliging the demand, Eliot sat against the headboard and dragged Quentin into his lap.  His eyes lost focus for a second as he remembered the first time Quentin had ridden him like this.  It was hazy, because of the passage of time and circumstance. He was brought back to the present by Quentin opening Eliot’s belt buckle.

“Everything okay?  You’re not still hurting, are you?”  Quentin’s hand crept inside Eliot’s open fly to press his palm along his hard cock as he waited.

Eliot groaned, but it trailed off into a gentle chuckle.  “Mmm. I’m really good.” Lifting his hips, Eliot pushed his trousers and his underwear down in one move.  “I was just thinking I want you just like this.”

Quentin’s clothes joined Eliot’s on the floor as Quentin straddled his outstretched legs.  “Yes,” he answered. “But not yet.” His chewed-down nails dug into Eliot’s chest, tangling in the hair there.  “I want to see you.”

“Fair enough, but honestly, if you keep rubbing like that, I’m not responsible for any premature conclusions to your explorations,” he warned, gasping in his next breath as Quentin’s mouth worked down the side of his neck.  “Q…”

“You always did like this,” Quentin murmured into Eliot’s skin.  He scraped his teeth gently over Eliot’s bobbing throat, then sucked at the tiny hollow at the base.  It made Eliot squirm delightfully, and Q ghosted a soft breath over damp skin.

Eliot gave a full-body shiver as he broke out into gooseflesh.  He barely retained enough control over his shaking hands to accurately cast the silencing spell.  “No need to let the neighbors in.”

Quentin drew his fingertip down the center of Eliot’s chest, stopping just below his navel.  “You got used to not having neighbors, didn’t you?”

"Cottage in the middle of the woods, nobody else around?  Best place in the world for making your boy scream.” Eliot put his hands on Quentin’s hips and rolled against him.  

“Wait.”  Quentin caught Eliot’s hands, and the bedroom lamp reflected off the ring Quentin still wore.  “I choose you, Eliot Waugh. Not because you’re here, or convenient, but because I do have a choice, and it’s still you.  Nobody else, just you. It’s important to me you get that.”

The unexpected moment caught Eliot off guard, and he had nothing glib to carry them through the moment.  Instead, he was honest; “Thank you, Quentin,” he said through a tight throat, and rubbed his finger over the silver ring.  

Quentin leaned over, and pressed his lips against Eliot’s ear.  “I don’t want fifty years, Eliot, I want a hundred. I want all the years you’ve got left.  And I’ll give you all the years I’ve got.”

“I’ll take that trade gladly.”  Eliot kissed Quentin’s hands, then his mouth, then his forehead.  “I’d choose you, every time.”

Quentin’s entire body flushed at the softly spoken words, and there was a tightness in his chest that loosened.  Instead of words, which were completely failing him at the moment, he settled for another kiss that left them both breathless and hungry.  “Lean back,” Quentin ordered, wrapping his hand around the hard length of Eliot’s cock. A brief laugh escaped him; “Do you know, Fen told Margo that you were hung like a centaur?” he asked, because suddenly he realized he’d never shared that little tidbit.

“And Margo repeated that?”  Eliot gave a breathless laugh.  “I don’t know whether to kill her or thank her.”

“Actually, she asked me after we got the key,” Quentin teased.  “More of a confirmation, I guess?” His hand stroked the shaft with maddeningly slow strokes, rubbing the head with his thumb on every stroke.  

Eliot squirmed a bit more, groaning quietly.  “I, uhh, goddammit Q, go faster,” he growled, unable to really think past that.

Quentin grinned, enjoying the feel of Eliot begging for him.  “You sure that’s what you want?” he asked sweetly. “I thought we were worried about premature endings.”

Eliot was breathing hard.  “Still on the table,” he panted, trying to push Quentin into moving faster.  

“Well, if that’s what you want…” Quentin stopped stroking entirely, then tucked his hair behind his ear before sliding the head of Eliot’s cock into his mouth.  

Eliot’s hands tangled in Q’s hair, fingers knotting in the strands as he tried to pull Q off.  “You… uh, God, right there, you, uh, are you sure you…” he trailed off as Quentin’s tongue teased the around the head and slid over the slit in the head.  

Quentin’s answer wasn’t verbal; he simply didn’t stop.  His tongue licked all around the shaft, wetting it before it slid into his mouth, each suck taking in slightly more than before.  He was well past halfway when Eliot started pulling his hair, and he closed his eyes.

Sure enough, Eliot’s cock was thrusting shallowly, speeding up and going deeper.  Quentin kept his eyes closed, remembering the taste and the feel of Eliot’s cock in his mouth as each stroke filled his mouth and throat.  He relaxed, trusting Eliot without hesitation, and he was rewarded by a hot stream spurting down his throat. He swallowed quickly, his hands going to hold Eliot still so that he could pull out every drop.  

Eliot gave a loud shout as he felt orgasm building, but Quentin seemed to ignore it.  He couldn’t hold it back and came, his seed going straight into Quentin’s mouth and down his throat with no argument.  He groaned sharply at the hard sucks against his sensitized flesh, but didn’t move because he felt himself hardening again.  “Quentin,” he rasped out, and used his thumb to gently move Q off his cock.

Quentin licked his lips as he let Eliot move him, and looked up while resting his chin on Eliot’s belly.  “Good?” he asked, voice trembling and raw. 

“Better than good,” Eliot confirmed, stroking Quentin’s face.  “Better than I remembered.”

Quentin moved up Eliot’s body, stopping when his knees were on either side of Eliot.  Bracing against him, he leaned over to the bedside table, and groaned softly when the box of condoms and bottle of lubricant were nowhere to be found.  “Fucking…”

“Don’t worry.”  Eliot’s clothes moved, and his suitcase flipped open.  There were three boxes of Magnums and a tube of Astroglide.  “Better prepared than not,” he pointed out. The tube and one of the boxes flew out of the suitcase and landed on the bed beside them.  “Good enough?”

“You are so handy sometimes.”  Quentin kissed him, licking down his chin to kiss his neck.  “Um… you don’t have lycanthropy or anything like that, do you?”

Eliot laughed.  “Uh, no, that’s Josh.  And Margo, wildly enough.  My only issue is probably liver damage, though at this point, I don’t know if the Monster fixed that or not.”  He rubbed his thumb over Quentin’s mouth, and shivered when Q kissed the pad. “Why?”

“Because we’ve never used them before and I don’t know why I thought we ought to now.”  Quentin tossed the condoms back towards Eliot’s suitcase, but kept the lubricant in his grip.  A squeeze squirted out a quarter-sized dollop, and Quentin rubbed his hands together, warming the gel before smoothing it over Eliot’s erection.  

Eliot’s protest got caught in his throat, breathing shallowly as Quentin slicked him with careful touches.  He could only watch as Quentin used his fingers to open himself, stretching with slick digits. Quentin met his eyes, and Eliot nodded.  

Reaching down, Quentin held Eliot’s slick cock steady as he pressed the head against his stretched opening.  A moment of resistance, and Quentin slowly started to sink down. He caught his lower lip between his teeth, feeling the hard length opening him further and pressing in deeper.  

Eliot grabbed onto the headboard rails to keep himself from grabbing Quentin and flipping him over and fucking him through the mattress.  He couldn’t even think of anything to distract himself; the only thoughts he could summon were of Quentin, flashes of memories and kisses and hard cocks and welcoming bodies.

Quentin’s head fell back, arching and pushing his chest out as he took in the last inch and was flush against Eliot’s lap.  Eliot took advantage, leaning forward as far as his clasped hands allowed, tonguing the taut curve of Quentin’s neck. His teeth dragged along the veins that stood under the skin, and nearly bit off his tongue when Quentin started to move.  

Pushing up and gliding back down, Quentin fumbled for Eliot’s hands.  His eyes opened to find Eliot clinging to the headboard, and he loosened each fist and brought them to his hips instead.  “Fuck me, Eliot, please.”

Eliot didn’t hesitate.  His fingers dug in hard, feeling Q’s hipbones and likely leaving bruises behind.  He picked up the pace, all but grinding Quentin against him as he surged up, the slap of skin against skin louder than the grunts and groans of both men.  Quentin leaned backwards, bracing himself on the bed as he rode Eliot’s cock. His fingers held onto the sheets, the heat and friction pooling between them and dripping sweat.  Eliot moved faster, rocking Quentin faster so that they were moving together. 

“Touch yourself,” Eliot demanded, feeling Quentin’s cock rubbing against his stomach.  “Want to see you.” 

Quentin brought one hand up to wrap around his cock, squeezing the shaft tightly before stroking it roughly, in sync with Eliot’s thrusting.  Sweat stung his eyes as watched Eliot watch him, his gaze not wavering despite the stinging. Eliot’s hair was getting damp, his skin reddening with exertion.  

Eliot couldn’t take his eyes off Quentin’s hand, stroking and squeezing his cock.  He tried to pay close attention, to watch Q pleasure himself so Eliot could do it later, but he couldn’t focus.  All he could focus on was watching, on feeling his cock inside Quentin’s body and shuddering hard with every squeeze.  

Quentin trembled.  The taste of Eliot was still fresh on his tongue, his ass was full of Eliot’s cock, and he was jacking himself off for Eliot’s pleasure.  The trembles turned into full-body shuddering, and his breath grew harsher and harder to draw in with every passing instant. With a loud, sharp cry, his entire body jerked hard, his seed splashing over his hand and Eliot’s belly.  

The stiffening of Quentin’s muscles gripped Eliot’s cock so rigidly, Eliot nearly lost his breath.  He felt the hot splash on his skin, but in the next instant that was driven out of his mind by the oncoming rush of his own orgasm.  It slammed into Quentin in a hot rush, and Eliot found himself clinging to Quentin as they rode out the aftershocks together. 

Sweating and clammy, Quentin carefully dismounted, then collapsed beside Eliot, curling into his chest.  Eliot pulled him in close, arms encircling him and offering him whatever he needed. Quentin just rolled in closer, and played gently with the hair on Eliot’s chest.  

If it had been anyone else, this would have been the time Eliot kicked them out of bed.  But this was Quentin, and he let Quentin rest in his arms. In a few moments, Q’s breathing evened out into sleep, and Eliot still didn’t move.  

Whatever dreams Quentin might have, Eliot would be there to defend them.  

The End


End file.
